


Reclaimation

by bzarcher



Series: Rising Swan (The Odette AU) [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A little bit racy in Ch. 2, Ana Amari has a posse, Birthdays, Choices, Chosen birthday, Cooking, Dancing, F/F, F/M, Food, Gen, Gifts, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Memories, Music, Odette!AU, PTSD, Recovery, Shopping, Tattoos, non-sexy bathtimes, past trauma, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:26:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher
Summary: Taking back what is yours.





	1. Chapter 1

Odette had blinked in confusion at the question Hana was asking her as they ate breakfast.

“Hey, your birthday is coming up, right?”

She didn’t really feel comfortable going by Amélie’s birthday. Biologically accurate, she supposed, but it wasn’t until August, and it still wasn’t _hers_ , even if Winston had put it on her falsified records out of convenience when they’d helped her get a driver’s license. Widowmaker hadn’t cared about such things as Talon’s puppet, and Odette…she hadn’t really considered the idea.

Something of that must have shown on her face as Hana munched a few bites of pungent pickled vegetables mixed with fried eggs and rice. Swallowing, the younger girl gestured up with her chopsticks. “A year ago next week, Lena sent out that email to everybody about your new name. That you wanted to be Odette, not for us to keep calling you Widow.”

Odette tried to mask her surprise at Hana actually remembering the date of her request. “Or Blueberry, Popsicle, Ultra Legs, Resting Bitch Queen, French Toast, Spider- _chic_ …” She’d actually been charmed by the seemingly unending series of nicknames and puns the Korean had used for her, once Lena explained that was her way of trying to make friends, but she wasn’t about to admit that.

“I really thought ‘Resting Bitch Queen’ was a good one,” Hana giggled, “but Odette is cool. It’s you, swan-girl.” She munched another bite of pickled cabbage (Odette had no idea how the girl could stomach kimchi so early, especially since she’d probably been chugging soda and munching on chips until well past midnight), then returned to the original subject. “But, yeah, so it’ll be your birthday. Any idea what you want?”

“ _Je déteste cette question,_ ” Odette grumbled, “I always have trouble answering it.” She didn’t mind getting things for herself – she really did like shopping for clothes, or groceries, once she got over her near panic at the sheer number of _things_ to choose from in the Tesco Lena had taken her into in the early days of her recovery. But for someone to give her something without being offered compensation in return? That was still strange, and it was hard for her to _request_ things that were not basic essentials. Even more than a year since she’d left Talon’s control, she struggled with having preferences, let alone them being taken into account. “Winston still worries that I do not spend enough of the money he provides me.”

“He just wants to make sure you’re happy, and you have things you want, not just things you need.” Hana’s usual brash cheerfulness softened a bit as she smiled at her former enemy. “You can have fun, y’know?”

“I have fun!”

“Pssh. Cooking dinner all the time, dancing in the gym, and listening to music that was old when Grandpa was a baby?”

“I _have_ fun,” Odette’s frown wasn’t entirely feigned, “I enjoy those things. They connect. I let things go and it’s just…me.” Feeling the burn as she worked on the bar, muscle memory she didn’t even know she had retained helping to guide her body as she moved. Tasting a sauce and figuring out what was missing to make it perfect, or letting her hands get into an easy rhythm chopping, slicing, or stirring. They were activities that provided structure and routines to follow, techniques to master and employ, and it gave her pleasure when she improved those skills. She had accepted that some part of her would always crave those feelings, but she did take pleasure in putting them into creative, rather than destructive, outlets.

That being said, Odette really couldn’t explain why she’d become a rather avid fan of the Beatles, after hearing a few songs on Lena’s stereo. She found herself humming along at times, and occasionally looking up contemporary bands, asking Athena to play them in the kitchen as she worked, playing songs on her phone while she was working in the garden, or sitting out in the courtyard with Bastion and his bird.

“Ok,” Hana relented, “sorry, I guess I do get that. But are there other things you’ve wondered about trying? Or never thought to ask? That’s kind of what birthday presents are supposed to be for, not just going to the mall and buying you another Williams-Sonoma gift card like we did at Christmas.”

“That card bought me a perfectly good pan,” Odette objected as a matter of form, “but…hm. A thing that I have wondered about?”

“Yeah! There has to be something.” Hana’s grin became sly. “Maybe something you haven’t even told Lena, hmmmm?”

Odette decided to make a small production out of stirring a spoonful of sugar into the ridiculously bitter liquid that McCree claimed to be ‘real coffee’, and taking a sip. “Perhaps there is something like that.”

“Oooooooo. Something that Lena doesn’t know about?”

“ _Pas vraiment…”_

“C’mooooon. You can’t just leave me hanging, swan-girl.”

“Mmm, well…” Odette took a slow sip of her drink, then pursed her lips. “I have been…I miss having tattoos.” When Angela had finally found a method to repair her skin (healing didn’t feel like the right word, when what had been done to her had not been injury, but a matter of deliberate design), the recovery process had ended up destroying the tattoos Talon had placed on her body as part of crafting the Widowmaker’s persona.

“You can’t tell me you miss that tacky spider?”

Odette shook her head. “No, not those specific tattoos, but…” Her lips turned up in a sly smile. “I miss the way Lena looked at me, when I was showing off my back. The way her fingers felt tracing the spider’s legs along my skin, or caressing up my arm.” Her expression turned positively wicked as Hana began to fidget uncomfortably. “The way her lips felt as she kissed the spider’s abdomen at the small of my back, and started to nip and lick her way down to my-“

“NOPE,” Hana declared, shaking her head vigorously, with a blush so fierce that her usual ‘war paint’ blended into her burning cheeks. “Nope, nope, nope. I am noping right the fuck out of this!”

“Oh, _mon petit lapin_ , I haven’t even mentioned how she liked to nibble at the letters at my wrist before I started to –“

“This is payback for the shampoo, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Odette murmured throatily, then leaned back, her voice returning to a more casual timbre. “But I suppose an opportunity to explore that thought would be a welcome gift. Perhaps a card for a tattoo shop?”

“You are horrible,” Hana pouted, but recovered her aplomb after drinking most of a bottle of the fluorescent energy drink she favored in the mornings, “but that’s cool. That gives me a couple ideas, thanks. Have you thought about what kind of design you would get?”

“Mm, not entirely. Perhaps something to do with a swan, given…the nature of what it would replace. Is that something they might have at the shop?”

“Depends,” Hana shrugged, “a good artist should talk to you, take any ideas you have and try to make a design you’d be really happy with. Sometimes if you’ve got something really specific, or an exact art style in mind, people like to commission a different artist to create a drawing for them to copy from - they call that a ‘flash’. You didn’t know this when got your old ink?”

Now it was Odette’s turn to feel embarrassed. “I wasn’t really aware of receiving them. I went to sleep without them, and when I awoke next, they had already healed.”

“Oh.”

“Though it begs the question of how _you_ know so much…”

“Everyone in MEKA who survived the training program got a couple. I drew out a flash of my bunny logo for the one on my upper arm, and it has the date of our ‘graduation’ under it. It’s usually hidden under my bodysuit or my shirt sleeves.” She bit her lip, then leaned in to whisper confidentially. “After the first time we fought the Sea Monster, a bunch of us got really drunk. Like, _really, really_ drunk, and I thought it would be a good idea to get another one. It wasn’t like they were gonna kick us out after that.”

Odette leaned in as well, her eyes glittering. “And…?”

“It’s…just a little pink heart, but…um…” Hana’s cheeks were aflame once again. “Not in a place someone’s gonna see unless we’re in the shower, or I’m…look, it’s somewhere pretty bad, ok? Don’t tell Dad. Please?”

“Dad?”

“You know! 76? I can just hear him losing his shit if he found out, and it would be SO embarrassing. You know he’d freak.”

“I suppose your secret will just have to be safe with me.”

Hana surprised her by reaching across the table for a quick hug. “THANK you, omg, thank you so much. You’re the best!”

Odette found herself smiling for the rest of the morning.

* * *

She hadn’t entirely forgotten the conversation she’d had with Hana, but it had drifted to the back of her mind after a few days. She’d noticed that McCree had been replaced with Ana and Mei on the cooking schedule for a meal the next week, but paid little mind. Jesse made three things well (Cornbread, chili, and steaks) and everything else badly. It was not unusual for others to ‘suggest’ that they take his place, depending on the current state of the pantry.

On her newly appointed date of birth, Odette kissed Lena before she left for “A little bit of recon, nothin’ to be concerned about!”, which was Tracerese for “I will be spending my day doing things that would terrify anyone who didn’t know me as well as you do, and probably getting shot at for a few hours.”

Winston was going on this operation, so at least Odette could trust that he wouldn’t let Lena get too out of hand. While they were gone, she would just work on trying to clean a few things around their room, dance, and not let her mind get carried away.

Later, after a post-workout shower, Odette headed for the Watchpoint’s common areas, intending to offer some help to Ana with some of the less interesting tasks involved in preparing dinner, and perhaps drink a cup of the sniper’s afternoon tea. To her surprise, when she reached the dining area, the kitchen doors that normally stood open had been shut. She could hear Ana and Mei’s voices from inside, and a male voice – was that _Junkrat_?

The Junkers were back in Winston’s good graces after they’d stumbled onto a Talon operation in Madagascar, of all places, and hauled back an intact set of data storage modules that had provided, among other things, many technical files and medical dossiers from ‘Project Latrodectus’.

Winston hadn’t wanted Odette to read them.

She’d done it anyway.

Odette suspected that the Australians’ mercurial temperaments would lead to their being kicked out of the Watchpoint again sooner or later, but for now things were well enough. None of that explained what the skinny one was doing in the kitchen, though, or why she wasn’t able to come in.

Rapping at the frame, she was surprised when the door opened just enough to let Junkrat stick his (slightly smouldering) head through.

“G’day! Sorry, sheila, you’re not allowed in right now. Boss’s orders!”

Odette’s frown deepened. “I live here, _salaud_. I would like to help with dinner, and why are the doors locked?”

“Can’t say! It’s –“

“Jamison.” Ana’s voice seemed warm, but there was an edge of steel under her words. “I believe Mei-Ling would appreciate a hand.”

“Oh, sure! Cheers, bir-“

Odette could just see the fingers of an aged but still quite fit hand landing on the back of the Australian’s neck. “Be a good boy, and stop talking.”

The Junker’s face fell flat the moment Ana’s fingers touched his skin. “Oh. Um…heheheh…right then! Bye!”

A moment after his head disappeared back into the kitchen, the elder Amari slipped from the kitchen, an apron over one of the flowing dresses she preferred when not preparing for battle. “Odette, dear, I do appreciate the offer, but we’re doing something special for tonight, and it’s delicate.”

Delicate and Junkrat did not mix, in her experience, and her face settled into a nonplussed frown.

“Mei and I have him under control,” Ana assured her with a dangerous gleam in her eye, “I’d love to have your help today, but you’ll understand tonight, I promise. For now, why don’t you visit the garden? It’s a lovely afternoon.”

It was a lovely afternoon when Odette made her way outside, but her mood had left her unable to really enjoy it.  It was painfully obvious something was being hidden. Had something gone wrong? Had SHE done something wrong? Why wasn’t she being told?

A sudden flash of fear seized her. _What if they want me out of the Watchpoint because something has happened?_

Almost as soon as the thought had formed, Odette was on her feet and heading for the hangar bay. _Lena was deploying with Winston, Lucio, Satya, and the Shimada brothers. Pharah, Mercy, McCree, Hana, Morrison, and Torbjorn have been salvaging material from the old Watchpoint in Naples, and are expected back before dinner. But there should still be_ someone _in the hangar_ …

As she’d hoped, the old lion was there when she burst through the doors, using a chain and block to lower a replacement rocket engine into the wedge of his massive hammer.

“Oh, hello! How are you this afternoon, _kleiner schwan?_ ”

“Reinhardt,” Odette tried to slow her pace, drawing a deep breath before speaking again, “you will tell me the truth, yes?”

The German blinked, confusion and concern plain on his well-worn face. “Of course I will. You have suffered from far too many deceitful plots, my dear.” Reinhardt carefully secured the chain, leaving the engine and hammer where they sat on a test bench, then wiped his grease and oil stained hands on a shop rag. “ _Bitte, komme mir_. Sit. Please, tell me what is troubling you?”

In the absence of a proper chair, Odette settled down on a packing crate (N-7-481 HAMDINGERS // NON PERISHABLE // DO NOT DROP), then tried to settle her thoughts. “Something has been strange today. Things have been different, starting after Lena left with Winston’s team. I noticed Aleksandra avoiding me in the gym while I warmed up before dancing, and then Ana refused to let me into the kitchen. Everyone seems to know _something_ that I cannot be told!”

Fear was still an emotion she had trouble mastering. If the changes Talon had made to the muscles in her fingers didn’t prevent them from trembling, she was certain her they would have done so as she voiced the thought that had been plaguing her mind since she’d left the garden. “Are they all right, Reinhardt? Did something happen? Is Lena hurt? Is that…why I’m being kept away? _Evité? Son accélérateur a été endommagé? Est-elle...disparu?_ ”

It suddenly occurred to her as she babbled that Reinhardt might not speak French, but he apparently got the gist, striding to her and wrapping her in a tight embrace.

“You poor girl. I am sorry this has become such a trouble to you. Your little _begrenzungslicht_ is safe, I swear. The last I heard, they had boarded their transport and are returning here as we speak. I give you my word, she will be back today, healthy and whole.”

Odette had stiffened when the larger man’s arms had wrapped around her, but she sagged with relief at his words, slowly returning the embrace as his comforting tone set in. “ _Alors pourquoi?_ Did _I_ do something wrong? _”_

“No, no, it’s nothing like that at all. Something is being planned for this evening, and I cannot explain more just yet,” Reinhardt cautioned as Odette began to demand he tell her more, “because I am keeping a secret, and you do understand how seriously I take that sort of thing. However, I _can_ tell you it is a good something, and it will be very special.”

A greasy hand gently wiped a tear from her cheek, and Odette found herself feeling surprise that the massive man could be so delicate.

“I don’t understand.” These kind of uncertainties always were difficult for her to process. How could it be a good thing if no one trusted her to know what it was?

“You will.” Reinhardt promised, stepping back to give the younger woman room. “In the meantime…since Brigette is off rummaging through the salvage we recovered from Eichenwalde, I could use an extra pair of hands to help me get this _verdammt_ thing locked into place. Perhaps a bit of work to do would ease your mind?”

Odette nodded. A task to occupy her was exactly what she needed, really. “Let me grab some work gloves, and I would be happy to assist you.”

“Besides,” he chuckled lightly, “this way you can give Lena a good kicking for worrying you, once she hops out of the ship.”

Smiling, she acknowledged the point with a little hum.

* * *

When the Orca that had left with Winston’s team returned to the hangar, a half hour behind the salvage team’s arrival, Odette didn’t give Lena any kind of kicking.

Wrapping the Brit in a tight embrace as soon as she’d hopped off the ramp, Odette’s grease stained gloves left smudged fingerprints on the sides and back of the tight underglove and leggings the smaller woman wore as part of her ‘hero kit’, and a dark line along one cheek after tracing it with her finger.

“Oi! You’re filthy!” Lena giggled as her lover waved her stained fingertips at her, then closed back in for a kiss. “You seem like you’ve had a fun afternoon.”

“It did not start off well,” Odette admitted, “but my mood is much improved. Reinhardt has been kind enough to teach me several very interesting new German words in exchange for my help.”

“Why don’t we go steal the whirlpool tub down in the trainer’s room, get something to drink while we clean up, and you can tell me all about it?”

“ _C’est parfait.”_


	2. Chapter 2

They had managed to reach the trainer’s room off of the Watchpoint gym before anyone else from the recent mission could steal it, and Odette had secured a pair of electrolyte laced drinks from the coolers near the weight rack.

After flipping the sign on the door to “OCCUPIED”, Odette locked the door, then turned to where Lena was filling the side by side whirlpools.

“How was the mission?”

Lena shrugged as she pulled off her goggles, then sat on a bench to remove her shoes and socks. “Tolerable. Poor Winston got his cannon broken. He wasn’t happy about that one bit, but he got the bastards back something fierce.”

Odette chuckled. Based on her past as Widowmaker, she was quite aware what the massive scientist had probably done in reaction to that. “I am sure he’ll feel better after spending a few days in his lab making a new one.”

“So true,” Lena agreed, “mind giving me a hand with the harness? I may have buggered my shoulder a bit…”

She tutted as she crossed to where Lena had turned to give her access to the straps and hooks of the Accelerator. She always felt incredibly intimate when her lover asked for her to touch the devices that made her so unique. In a very real way, she was being entrusted with Lena’s life.

“Oh, _mon coeur_.” Now that she was paying closer attention, she could see the burnt material on the back of Lena’s right shoulder, and the too-pink skin peeking through a tear that indicated the DJ’s audio-medic tech had been used to regenerate a wound. Her fingers gently traced the edges of the torn leather before starting to loosen the Accelerator’s shoulder straps. “What happened?”

“Nngh. Zagged when I should have zigged. Got a tap from a pulse round, and I didn’t have enough charge to recall right away. Lúcio got me right and tight soon as he could, but you know how it feels after the adrenaline’s worn off.” Once there was enough slack on the harness, Lena shrugged her way out of one jacket sleeve, then the other, before allowing Odette to pull the garment out from beneath her combat equipment.

“Perhaps Angela can help mend this. I can’t think of anyone else with a sewing machine.” Odette mused, folding it as neatly as she could and then putting it on a nearby counter.

“Worst case, I have a couple more back at the flat.” Next came the bullet resistant underglove, first one arm, then the other, and finally tugging it over her head far enough to slide away. “Think you could give the leggings a tug?”

Odette mock-pouted as she crouched down to loosen the laces at the side of the Englishwoman’s calves. “You make undressing you sound so boring, _chérie._ ” Once the leggings were off, she gave a gentle caress, noting where bruises had been forcibly healed to the roughly mottled, olive and mauve stage. Gently squeezing the younger woman’s hip before looking up to her. “The bath will help with these – you must be aching.”

Lena shrugged her good shoulder. “Not too much worse than most days. You know how it goes.” Bending over with a groan, she slid the form fitting briefs she’d been wearing – not so different than the undergarments Odette wore for dancing – past her knees and let gravity do the rest. Finally, she looked down at the bulky harness that rested over her breasts and core. Lena’s voice was quiet, but brittle, and hearing her tone made something in Odette ache. “God I hate this.”

“I could get some plastic wrap and seal it for you instead,” Odette offered, “there should be some in the cabinets here.”

Lena took a slow breath, her eyes rising to the ceiling. “No, I could use the soak. Took a couple hard shots to the gut when I had to steal the one bugger’s assault cannon.” Sighing, she looked over to her lover, looking terribly young and vulnerable. “Just…hold my hand?”

Odette sat next to Lena’s injured side, and took her hand gently. Squeezing lightly, she leaned over just enough to place a tender kiss at Lena’s hairline.

“Right,” Lena breathed, then spoke in a louder voice. “Athena, I’m detaching the accelerator from the anchor. Please monitor for chronal fluctuations?”

The AI’s voice was warm, offering what comfort she could. “Monitoring engaged, Lena. Ready for disconnection protocol.”

Lena put her good hand on the rotating glowing disk at the center of the harness, and gave a sharp twist counterclockwise. (The first time she’d seen that, Odette had wondered if it was a very dark little joke within Winston’s design.)

The larger disk swung out, and Lena carefully parted the now divided front of the vest, then shrugged it up and off her shoulders. The large power cells that weighted down the back began to drag it off her arms as gravity took hold, and Odette released Lena’s hand so she could free herself completely. With that done, the taller woman collected the harness from the bench, depositing it on top of the abused bomber jacket.

“Nngh,” Lena groaned, reaching to peel off the sweaty sports bra that was her last piece of clothing. “Going to be stiff as a board in the morning.”

“Shh. Relax in the tub. I’ll get some ibuprofen, too.”

“Advil and Lucozade, the Overwatch breakfast of champions,” Lena giggled, slowly standing and stretching until her back popped.  Odette gave a private little smile at watching the way her lithe body flexed and twisted as she performed a few stretches on her way to the tub. The anchor that had become part of her flesh just peeked from below the base of her breasts, a small cylinder glowing with that unique blue light that seemed to be tied to the Slipstream’s energy. Shadows and reflections danced across the ceiling as Lena slipped into the tub, replaced by a soft radiance as the water began to shine from within, the whirlpool’s agitator starting automatically as she sat. “Oooo. That’s so good…”

Odette was one of a tiny handful of people in the world who knew that the accelerator and anchor were, in fact, two different pieces of technology, and how they could be separated without causing massive trauma to Lena or the local patch of space and time she occupied. Most – even the bulk of her teammates - assumed she slept, bathed, ate, and everything else in the bulky rig – and for a very long time it had been true.

Changing that taken Angela providing confidential therapy for many years, even before Overwatch had been disbanded, combined with gentle encouragement and support from Winston. Once Odette had added her own efforts at reassurance to theirs, Lena had been making more progress, and Angela had privately told her that her influence was ‘quite encouraging.’ It was still an ongoing thing, but Lena had become markedly more comfortable removing the full harness for more than the absolute minimum of time she needed to shower. She’d even begun leaving it off after drying herself rather than strapping the accelerator on as quickly as possible and leaving the fittings just barely loose enough that she could dress herself around it.

After delivering the promised painkillers and a bottle of sports drink to wash them down, Odette stripped herself and left her clothes in a more or less orderly pile next to the bench they’d been sitting on. (She couldn’t explain why she diligently folded and carefully stored all of Lena’s clothes, but more or less tossed hers wherever they fell. When someone made the mistake of mentioning the assumption that Lena was the slob in their relationship, the two usually shared a quiet laugh later.) Stopping to give Lena another kiss, Odette slipped into the warm water of her neighboring tub with a long sigh.

“So,” Lena looked over after a long moment of shared sybaritic pleasure as the rushing and pulsing warm water eased their aches and relaxed their muscles, “You had a rough day?”

Odette frowned. “Not so much, compared to what-“

“Ahh, no. Don’t, luv, please. What you feel matters too, and I want to know about it, ok?” Lena reached up to rub at her previously injured shoulder. “This’ll heal, and I’ll be right as rain after a couple of pints.” Smiling, she blew a little kiss across the space between them. “Dish.”

Odette could feel her cheeks warm, still a bit embarrassed, but relented. She walked Lena through her strange encounter in the kitchen, and after a moment of hesitation, her terror in the garden. Lena reached out from her tub and just held her hand for a long moment, and Odette squeezed tight when she talked about her conversation with Reinhardt after she found him in the hangar.

“I swear,” Lena murmured, “that if anything ever happens, you’ll know, OK? I don’t plan on going anywhere – but I’m not gonna lie to you and say I’ll never get hurt, or that nothing could go wrong. We both know there’ll be risk.” She laughed quietly at that, her eyes flicking to the ceiling. “People get hurt every day, even if all they do is take a cab to work.”

Lena leaned her head back against the side of the tub, and Odette could feel a little tear at the corner of her cheek as her thoughts were lost in those expressive, caring, and sometimes incredibly sad eyes. “But I promise, luv, if I did get hurt, or…lost…I will make sure you’re told right away. I wouldn’t let you be left hanging.”

Odette swallowed hard, nodding as she blew a ragged breath through her nose. A barely whispered _“Merci_ ” all she could manage for a moment. The room became quiet, save the noise of the water being circulated around their bodies.

After the silence had begun to stretch past the point of being comfortable, Lena gently prodded things again. “Seems like you were back in good spirits when we got home. I’m guessing Granpop saw to that?”

Odette’s responding smile was weak at first, but strengthened as she told Lena about the rest of their talk, then into how she’d been helping him with his repairs, and a few of the more entertaining curses he’d let loose while getting the hammer back into working order.

“The chance to do something with myself was exactly what I needed. Whatever is going on, I think Ana meant well, but…I am still not comfortable with having my routines disrupted.”

Lena nodded, then hummed thoughtfully. “If it’s any consolation, they didn’t tell me either. Probably just as well,” she admitted with a sly grin, “you know I’m shit at keeping a secret.”

Odette’s laugh was soft, but genuine as she sat up a bit in the tub. “After all, you certainly couldn’t be trusted to work as part of a clandestine organization.”

“Or to start hidin’ people’s Christmas presents in June.”

“So horribly lax that you could never be expected to maintain an elaborate secret betting pool about Jesse and Hanzo’s relationship. Or the side bets about Genji’s attempts to get them to admit things in public.”

“I swear Hana must have been the one to spill the beans on that. I ought to eat every bag of shrimp chips she owns after all the trouble the whole thing stirred up.”

“Winston WAS quite disappointed in you.”

“I know! He made the _face_! Though I think he was mostly upset I didn’t offer him odds, if we’re being honest.”

“ _Très probablement._ ” Her mood considerably lightened, Odette chuckled as she turned off the whirlpool, then shifted to face Lena, leaning against the side of the tub conspiratorially after she’d shut down hers as well. “So, what do you suspect this is? This ‘good something’, as Reinhardt put it?”

As Lena considered, chewing on her lip thoughtfully, she cocked her head up and to the side, her eyes drifting towards the ceiling. It was one of her more adorable habits, and Odette was sorely tempted to haul herself out of the tub and start trailing kisses over Lena’s shoulders.

She’d nearly decided to put that plan into action when Lena made a little ‘huh’ sound at the back of her throat. “Remember that conversation you had with Hana?”

“…about her tattoo?”

“No,” Lena said absently, “the one you told me about the other night after dinner. About her deciding your birthday was coming up.” Then she blinked, her mind rewinding back the conversation. “Waaait, wot? Hana has a tattoo? When did that happen?”

Odette smirked. “Well, I can tell you the story about _one_ of them, but she swore me to secrecy about the other.”

“ _Ooooo_ ,” Lena breathed, “I bet that’s a good one, then. But, you do recall what I’m talking about?”

“Yes, I do now…” Odette blinked. “Wait. Is this the day?”

“Got a hunch, yeah.” Lena stood to step out of the tub and towel off, and Odette let herself enjoy that moment, rather than feel embarrassed about apparently forgetting her new birthday. “They’ll be upset if we don’t act surprised at whatever they’ve got in the works, though.”

Odette sighed melodramatically, then stood herself. “I suppose I can try to push myself.”

Lena snorted, swatting at Odette’s backside with her towel. “It’ll be quite a struggle, I’m sure. Though I guess I am going to have to look a twit – I didn’t get you anything!”

Odette turned, looping an arm around Lena’s shoulders and drawing her in. “Yes you did,” she breathed, then kissed her tenderly. “You give me so much, every day. My new life - _notre vie, ma belle lumière._ Every moment has been a gift.”

Lena returned the kiss, and if both of them had a tear or two in their eyes, nothing needed to be said.

Odette gave a soft moan of frustration after their lips met again, suddenly very aware of Lena’s warmth and the closeness of their naked bodies. “I suppose it would be poor manners to be late for dinner tonight.”

Teeth lightly nibbled along Odette’s pale collarbone, and she gasped as Lena nipped at the base of her throat. “mmm. Shame…shame, really. Total shame.” Lena’s lips turned up into a sly little grin against Odette’s neck. “I mean, if they’d told me it was important, I’d really try to get you there on time, but if I didn’t know any better, who knows what I might do?”

Odette chuckled throatily, running a hand along her lover’s hip. “You’re a menace.”

Lena leaned back, her expression full of mock offense. “Pssh. I’ll have you know I’m all sweets and crackers. Said so right on my last performance review.”

“Which you wrote.”

“Oi! Who’s been telling tales now?”

* * *

In the end, they did make it down to the dining room just a few minutes past when dinner was normally served, Odette in one of the casual, snug fitting blouses she preferred, combined with a pair of looser cut capris, while Lena had opted for a pair of jean shorts that stopped just below her knees, a t-shirt from what she’d said was an aerospace parts company (YOYODYNE PROPULSION), and a baggy hoodie with the Overwatch logo printed on the breast.

If Lena wasn’t wearing the accelerator, no one would know, and Odette wasn’t going to tell.

“Finally!” Hana called as they came through the door. Almost everyone was sitting around the tables, many of them wearing their versions of ‘nice-casual’ outfits.

“I’m feelin’ a mite underdressed now,” Lena whispered, “oops.” Odette just squeezed her hand in response.

“할모니!” Hana yelled back into the kitchen, ignoring the byplay, “Neutral Femme and Chaotic Butch are here!”

“Thank you dear. Have everyone sit down,” Ana called back, “we’ll bring things out.”

Hana shooed them to a table, the others doing a poor job of concealing smiles.

“What kept you guys, anyway?”

“ _Well…_ ” Lena drawled out, and Hana peered in to look at a smudge of concealer on the collar of Odette’s wine colored blouse.

“OK, ok, TMI. Sit, and no being gross before the food comes out!”

Just after they’d settled in, the doors to the kitchen opened, and to Odette’s surprise, Morrison sang out a wordless musical tone before everyone else joined in on somewhere around the same key, while Ana and Mei brought out a long cart laden with food.

“ _Joyeux anniversaire,_

_Joyeux anniversaire,_

_Joyeux anniversaire Odette,_

_Joyeux anniversaire!”_

Even with Lena’s suspicion that something like this was being planned, Odette found herself tearing up as they sang to her. Such a little simple thing, but for them to go to all this trouble…

Lena kissed her cheek, then squeezed Odette tight as Ana and Mei wheeled the cart to them first.

“Is this raclette?” Odette recalled the dish, vaguely. The pot of bubbling melted cheese and fragrant wine that was placed at the center of the table looked decadently inviting as Mei helped lay out bread, cubes of meat, and slices of vegetables. “It smells delicious.”

Ana nodded, smiling as she handed each of them a long thin fork. “We looked up some of the things people in Annecy made for special occasions.” Her eye closed a moment, her voice softening. “I remembered Amélie mentioning she loved fondue when she was young. I think she would have wanted us to make it for you.”

Odette closed her eyes and bowed her head for a long moment. She can feel the older woman’s pain, but also understands the kindness in her gesture. That she acknowledges the woman she once knew was gone. That Odette was someone new, no matter who she looked like. From the first day she’d been brought to Overwatch by Lena, Ana didn’t ever have to be told she wasn’t Amélie. That meant more than Odette thought she could ever express in words.

“Now c’mon, darlin’,” Jesse called, “take a bite so the rest of us can feel right about eatin’ up!”

Odette laughed, and thanked Ana with a quick hug before she turned to face where McCree was sitting. “I was under the impression that did not usually stop you, _bouvier_ , but I will eat.” Jesse mimed being shot, collapsing into the elder Shimada, who grumbled sourly in Japanese as the others gave a mocking cheer.

“Oh, and when we’re done,” Mei began to explain, only to be interrupted by a booted foot kicking the kitchen doors open, followed by Junkrat carrying in a cake that was almost as wide across as his torso, accented with several brightly burning sparklers.

“SUPRIIIIIISE!” Junkrat barely managed to pivot through the doors on his peg leg without dropping the tray, but somehow managed to bring it in for a relatively smooth landing on a nearby table where someone had left a carving knife and spatula. “Happy birthday!”

Odette’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “You can bake?” Then, she looked over to where Satya, normally the undisputed mistress of the kitchen’s larger ovens, sat, a morsel of cheese soaked bread carefully balanced on her fork. “Satya _allowed_ you to bake?”

“We have an understanding,” the Indian woman noted before popping the bite neatly into her mouth, and Junkrat offered a theatrical wink.

“OK,” Lena mumbled around a bite of veg, “consider my mind blown.”

Odette shook her head – some things would likely never make sense to her – and just tucked in to her meal, a smile tugging on her lips throughout the dinner.

Once the fondues and their associated dishes had been cleared (and Odette informed that she would not be allowed to help clean up afterwards, despite her polite objections), Satya began cutting the cake into excruciatingly precise portions, while Mei delivered a scoop of ice cream to go with each plate.

Reinhardt brought Odette and Lena their plates, Odette’s accompanied by a single candle stuck proudly into the thick frosting. Blowing it out to the cheers of the room, she took a small bite as several of them snapped pictures. Almond cake, she realized, with vanilla buttercream. A good choice for the strawberry ice cream. Odette wondered if Hana had told Ana that she actually didn’t care that much for chocolate, even as she mentally winced at her calculation of how many hours she would need to dance to work off this incredibly rich meal.

“Good thing this isn’t a wedding,” Lena joked after taking a bite of her own, “this is way too delicious to waste by smashing it in each other’s’ faces.”

“I have never understood that,” Odette admitted, “I do not think Amélie did either. I seem to recall she just ate her cake. But I do remember someone ‘accidentally’ pouring a glass of wine on Gérard’s lap when he suggested it.”

Lena giggled, then reached out to squeeze Odette’s shoulder lightly. “It’s nice when it’s…when you can think of them and it’s a happy memory.”

Odette nodded, tears starting to fill her eyes. “ _Très. Je me sens ... ce qui est très bon, en ce moment. Je suis très chanceux aujourd'hui.”_

“Hey,” Hana objected as she returned to the table, “no crying! It’s your birthday!”

“It’s…I’m happy,” Odette tried to explain through the tears, “I really am, right now. I feel very, very happy.”

“Wait until you open your presents!”

Blinking her eyes clear, Odette shook her head in disbelief. “Presents…I can’t believe I’ll get a gift greater than this.”

Hana grinned. “Well, we’re gonna try, anyway.”

* * *

Fortunately for her already overstimulated emotions, they had only bought Odette four presents, rather than a package from each member of the organization.

The first package, a small green box covered in little frogs and bananas, contained a new set of IDs and paperwork for her, all using her “new” birthday, and a note from Winston and Lúcio that all of her electronic records had already been quietly altered. The simple practicality of it suited them both, and she thanked them as Lena carefully put all the papers back into the box and kept it away from the discarded wrapping paper.

The second was a large rectangle in seemingly perfectly fitted white and gold paper, and it took some careful handling before Odette was able to find a seam and unwrap a camping “bundle” – a two person tent that collapsed into an almost impossibly compact bag thanks to memory plastic poles and “smart” panels, a 2 person sleeping bag and pad rated for ridiculously cold or hot temperatures, and a sturdy backpack frame to mount them all on.

A bit of examination found a card from Angela, ‘76’, and most of the others (save Lena), with three notable exceptions. She was beginning to suspect what the remaining presents would be, but Odette made a point of thanking everyone for the bundle. “Perhaps we’ll be taking that vacation sooner than we expected, _non?”_

Lena grinned as she helped to put this box away safely as well. “After they went to all this trouble? Absolutely.”

The third package was actually more of a bag – and when she carefully parted the tape holding it shut, a stuffed lion, wearing a soft vinyl and puffed fabric version of Crusader armor.

“I made one of these for someone a few years ago,” Brigette explained, “so Reinhardt asked if I’d put one together for you.”

“I love it,” Odette thanked the younger woman as she took a moment to hug the doll, the thick fur of the mane tickling her nose, “it’s perfect.”

That left the last box, a long and flat box colored a shocking pink, the familiar white rabbit logo smirking up at Odette before she lifted the lid. She’d expected just to find a gift certificate to a tattoo artist, and there was one on the top of the small pile of papers, but below that…

Odette gasped as she lifted the first drawing from the box. It seemed to combine features of a swan and a phoenix, the base starting as a tapered cone that suggested a rising flame, then expanding to flaring wings, with a wisps of what might have been smoke or wind rising from their leading edges, while the swan’s distinctive neck curved up between them, proud and graceful.

“ _Hana_ ,” Lena breathed, “this is gorgeous! Did you do this?”

The teen smiled, her hands clasped behind her back. “Well, yeah! I did all my own graphics for my blog and my stream before I joined MEKA, and I still do a little bit of drawing when I have time. Since you didn’t really know an artist to talk to, I thought I could try to give you a few ideas.”

The other drawing in the box was simpler, but still lovely, a collection of graceful black curves that almost looked like brushstrokes, but managed to suggest a swan in flight.

“I may come up with a couple more for you to look at. Give me another day or two.” Hana’s smile turned just a bit shy as she looked for Odette’s reaction. “You really like them?”

“ _Ils sont incroyables, lapin_.” Odette set them gently back into the box, then dabbed more tears from her eyes. “It seems I have some difficult decisions coming up.”

“Well, the thing about getting inked is that you tend to start thinking about the next ones almost as soon as you finish the first one,” Hana advised, “so whichever you start with, keep the other, and you may get some other ideas!”

“I will,” Odette promised, then stood to embrace the girl, “this was amazing, Hana. All of you. This is all so…I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

“That’s all right, dear,” Ana reassured her, “we know.”

* * *

They’d enjoyed some wine and a few other drinks before taking the gifts back to their rooms, Odette carefully placing the tent and camping gear in her closet, swapping her new IDs for the old ones in her purse and wallet, placing the other paper records in a lockbox, and finishing by gently putting Hana’s art and the tattoo gift card on her dresser.

She brought the stuffed lion to bed with her that night, to Lena’s great delight.

They were laying together, the smaller woman resting in the taller’s arms. Odette’s breasts gently rose and fell against the bare skin of Lena’s back, her lips lightly brushing the freckles that ran along her slim shoulder.

“mmmmm. y’can keep doing that long as you like, luv.” Lena’s soft, sleepy voice was a perfect end to the day as far as she was concerned.

“Perhaps I shall.” Odette’s voice was barely above a whisper, her fingers stroking the other woman’s belly…and as she did, she thought of one last thing she might ask Lena today – one last gift for her birthday.

“Lena?”

“mm?”

“What are we?”

The smaller woman shifted, turning so that she could look into Odette’s eyes. “How do you mean?”

“I…you and I…I’m not sure what to call our relationship.” She leaned in, tenderly kissing the younger woman before pulling back slightly. “Everything you give me…everything I feel when I’m with you…simply calling you my ‘girlfriend’ is far too simple a word – and ‘lovers’ not enough.”

Lena murmured a soft ‘oh’ as she thought about that, her fingers gently caressing the side of her lover’s face. “Yeah, I see now. We just sort of…happened, didn’t we?”

Lena had been incredibly careful and respectful of boundaries in those first confusing, painful months as they’d helped the former assassin reclaim her own body and mind. Despite the obvious attraction they’d shared, Lena never abused her position in the former Widowmaker’s life, and had even sat down in a few ‘counseling sessions’ with Angela to make sure both of their motives were coming from the right place before they’d let themselves close that gap. But now…

Lena’s eyes became serious, and her voice grew low and quiet in a way that almost no one ever heard. “What do _you_ want, luv? Are you asking…about getting married?”

Odette closed her eyes and shook her head slowly as soon as Lena spoke that last word. “No…I don’t think…”She took a deep breath, Lena waiting patiently as she slowly put her conflicted thoughts into some kind of order in the face of sudden fear. “I love you, Lena Oxton. I would be anywhere you are, follow you anywhere our lives go. But I cannot be your wife. Not now – perhaps not ever. There is…weight…from the past – from what Talon made of me - which I cannot separate from that word.”

Lena gently placed a finger against her lover’s pursed lips. “Shh. I love you, too, Odette Lacroix. I love you any way you’ll have me, and any way we make a life together from here. You don’t have to explain anything else.”

A warmth of relief flooded through Odette’s stomach, tension she didn’t even realize she’d been carrying slowly melting away. “Partners, then?”

Lena smiled. “If you like. And if you ever think another word feels better, tell me. Or I’ll ask you if something catches my eye.”

Odette leaned back in, brushing her lips against her partners’. “ _Je t’aime._ ”

Lena’s fingers slid through thick dark hair as their lips parted, breathing “ _Je t’aime_ ” in that moment before she deepened the kiss.

Nothing else needed to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If asked, Odette will tell you that teasing Hana at breakfast is not her revenge for the Shampoo Incident.
> 
> Subtly nudging Lena to start bugging Hana about her secret tattoo, on the other hand...
> 
> The two designs Hana 'created' are the back tattoos for Widowmaker's Odette and Tricolore skins, respectively. :) Which one do you think she'll pick?
> 
> (I have some outlines for the visit to the tattoo shop - expect to see it soon!)


	3. Chapter 3

After debating which tattoo design to use the gift card on, Odette finally settled on the more dramatic of Hana’s sketches. The combined imagery and meaning of the phoenix and swan resonated with her, and spoke to the very reasons she wanted to get the ink in the first place.

After letting Hana know which design she preferred, they spent the better part of an evening sitting in the Korean’s ridiculously pink bedroom, refining the design and making sure it was exactly the way Odette wanted.

“The artist at the shop is going to want to do a pass at this with you, too,” Hana explained, “but I talked to her a bit while I was scouting out the best place to get a gift card from, and I think she’ll be able to make this into exactly what you want.”

The original drawing had been a pure black silhouette and a bit of linework to suggest motion and forms through negative space, but Odette had decided she wanted a small addition of color – highlighting the eye of the swan and the trailing edges of the flared wings in as close a shade of blue as they could make to the light emitted by Lena’s accelerator.

“I like it,” Hana agreed as she rummaged through her art supplies to find a marker to match the shade, “does Lite-Brite know yet?”

Odette shook her head. “No, I thought I would make it a surprise when she comes to the session with me.”

“That’s disgustingly cute, _soignée_.”

“I thought you didn’t speak French, Hana.”

“Still don’t! But someone used that word on a cooking show and it sounds like swan!”

“…it really doesn’t.”

“Psh. _Soignée_ – ‘swan yay’ – sounds the same to me.”

Odette sighed. She knew when she wasn’t going to win these sort of things. “So, the tattoo, what should I do next?”

“Since this is a larger piece, we should probably set up two appointments. One to go over everything and set up a stencil so she can plan the best way to make it work on your back, and then the actual tattoo session. The card I bought you is for an all-day, because Jill – she’s the artist – prefers to do back work, even a fairly straightforward one like this, in eight hour blocks.”

Odette nodded. “If you had to guess?”

“Mmm, haven’t seen how fast Jill works yet, but I’d guess four or five hours at least – and she has some of the new stuff to help treat and heal the skin a bit faster. That’ll take an extra hour or so, but she’ll basically going to seal a layer of transparent artificial skin over it. It’s designed to breathe to help your skin heal, but prevent infections, and as it breaks down over about a week it releases stuff to keep everything healthy. Way better than having to rinse it a couple times a day and apply a bunch of lotion over and over.”

“A shame,” Odette sighed, “I was looking forward to having Lena help with that last part.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “You guys are so disgusting – but if you want to tell a little white lie and ask her to give you a backrub I won’t call bullshit on you. Jill may give you some aftercare cream anyway to be safe – she seems pretty old school.”

“Well, it seems it’s time to make some calls.”

* * *

Hana offered to take her for the planning and stencil session. This would let them keep the final design secret from Lena until the actual tattoo appointment, so they drove in her (unsurprisingly bright pink) sedan to almost the opposite side of the peninsula, near where the British territory met the Spanish border.

The tattoo studio was part of a row of shops that had actually been cut into one of the rocky hillsides that lined the Devil’s Tower, with a polished black sign that had the words “Practical Magic” picked out in silver alongside several alchemical and occult symbols.

“Here we go!” Hana pulled the door open, ushering Odette in. The shop turned out to be surprisingly well appointed in dark floors and slate colored walls, with comfortable looking seats and couches, framed pictures of several exceptionally beautiful or elaborate tattoos, and a raised platform near the back where Odette could see a set of tattoo chairs and padded tables for performing the actual work.

“Just a minute,” a woman called from the back in a rich contralto, “I’m washing up!” A few moments later, a door opened and a powerfully built woman emerged. Wearing what appeared to be tanker boots, BDU pants, and a black top that accentuated both her natural curves and well-muscled arms, she wasn’t as aggressively chiseled as Fareeha or exceptionally muscled as Aleksandra, but clearly took pride in her body. Earrings gradually increased in size as they trailed down the edge of her ears until reaching the base, where they called attention to large silver gauges in each earlobe, and a small chrome septum piercing winked out just below her nostrils.

Her dark eyes danced over Hana and Odette as she walked over to them, sparkling with amused intelligence, and her undercut was dyed an electric blue that shaded down to a dark aqua as it swept over the right side of her face, while the left had been shaved down to her scalp.

“Hey, kid. This the friend you were buying a gift card for earlier?”

“Yup! Odette, this is Jill, vice versa, GG.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Odette smiled as they settled onto a set of couches, a small table between them, “Hana was very complimentary of your work.”

“Thanks! Happy birthday, by the way. Hana mentioned that’s why she was grabbing the card for you.”

“ _Merci._ ”

Hana brought out her final revision of the design they’d settled on, and Jill looked over it with a practiced eye. “Really nice lines here. You’ve got a great eye for this if you ever get bored of the video game badass superhero thing. I’d offer you an apprenticeship on the spot if you brought me a portfolio with this level of quality.”

Hana blushed and thanked the artist for her compliment, but Odette looked over with concern. “You know who we are?”

The Korean girl scoffed. “Uh, duh, hi, international celebrity here?”

“Yeah,” Jill noted absently as she measured the design with a small metal ruler, “basically that. Oh – also the fact that _someone_ started using the old Watchpoint base down by the Rock again, and there’s all the stuff in the news about Overwatch being back, even if the UN isn’t saying shit.”

Odette blinked. “And that isn’t a problem for you?”

“You guys are saving lives,” the artist answered as she finished making a few small marks in blue pencil on the paper, “Fuck the UN. Besides, what’s that got to do with getting inked?” Smiling, she tapped the design – “I wasn’t kidding earlier, this is badass. I want to do this ink for you. It’ll be a great piece for my portfolio.”

“Oh.” Odette needed a moment to process that, then smiled. “ _Désolée,_ I am getting used to the transition from being an international criminal to a member of a vigilante group.”

“No worries – just try not to get my doors kicked in? My rent is a bitch as it is.”

They all had a good laugh at that, then Jill stood. “OK, I need to get my camera and then ask you a ton of uncomfortable questions. In the meantime, that top and your bra need to come off so I can get a good look at your back.”

Odette needed a moment to figure out how to answer the question of if she’d had a previous tattoo, finally settling on “I had a tattoo on my back before I was in a major accident, but I don’t remember receiving it very well. The tattoo was removed as part of the efforts to safe my life afterwards.” She told a few lies of omission in the explanation, but the basics were all true.

Jill had been sympathetic, and had decided that since Odette didn’t remember the tattooing process well, they’d plan to go slow.

“We’ll start with the linework and I’m going to want you to gauge how you’re handling the pain level – and be honest with me! If it’s too much and you start flinching every time I touch you, it’s not going get either of us anywhere.” If the linework went well, they’d move on to filling in the color that day to bring the swan to life, but if it was too much, they’d allow the lines to heal and then come in to complete the design.

“Hana did a nice job of scaling this to your back – another reason you should come be my shop bitch for a couple months, by the way – and I can do a one to one stencil for you. I’ll take that and the pictures and measurements I took of your back, make sure I have it all lined up to look the way you want, and email you some photoshops to give you an idea of how it’ll look once it’s healed completely. Email me back any feedback, and we’re good to go!”

After shaking hands, they’d booked the appointment for the tattooing for the following Saturday afternoon. Lena had been delighted by the news, and immediately decided that no matter how long the session went, they’d make a day of it.

“Shops will be open late, so we could go browse around for some clothes that you could show off your new tat with, maybe get a few drinks, have some dinner – go dancing? Haven’t done that in ages.”

“I like that idea in theory,” Odette agreed as they ate dinner in the watchpoint dining hall, “but I should be careful about how I feel afterwards. I don’t know if I’ll feel energized from the experience, or drained. Hana warned me that both are possible.”

Lena’s smile turned wicked, lowering her voice so she wouldn’t be overheard easily. “Hana doesn’t know how you react to getting kinky in bed.”

Odette clapped a hand over her mouth as she laughed, her face burning. “ _Mon Dieu_ , _chérie_!”

* * *

The day of her appointment, Odette wore an oversized shirt that would not rub uncomfortably against her skin after the tattooing, while Lena had buckled her Accelerator’s harness over a t-shirt, then put a loose sweater over it, the material thick enough to prevent the glowing disc at the center from shining through.

“You’ll probably be able to pull the sweater off once we’re in the shop. Jill was…incredibly blasé about our ties to Overwatch. She mentioned she’d lock the door once she starts working."

“That’ll be nice – this jumper does the job, but I’ll be roasting in half an hour. I’m going to leave the extra power cells home, too, so I don’t look like the hunchback of Notre Dame.” Standing on tip-toes to give her partner a kiss, she grinned with anticipation, looking like a child at Christmas. “If this goes well, I have a feeling she’ll be getting a lot more business from mysterious vigilantes afterwards.”

Hana had decided to join them, though Lena insisted on driving, so she could see the results of her design translated into her reality, agreeing that she’d catch a ride home by some other means if the other women decided to go out for a date once the session was over.

As Odette had predicted, Jill had locked the door after the three women came in, introducing herself to Lena and then placing a “PRIVATE SESSION” sign in the shop windows before drawing the blinds.

Lena looked at the blinds, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Won’t be people be a little suspicious of that?”

“No,” Jill answered with a smile, “I draw my blinds for any clients getting inked on the back or sensitive areas. That way the customer has privacy and I don’t have assholes trying to sneak a peek.”

“Brilliant!” Lena yanked off the sweater off so quickly that Odette thought she heard a whipcrack as it landed in one of the chairs near the door.

“Whoa,” Jill blinked as she peered into the glowing light at the center of the exposed harness, “OK, that’s new.”

“If it helps,” Lena suggested as she crossed her arms a bit self-consciously around her waist, “Think of it as a piece of medical equipment.”

Odette had just started to place a hand on Lena’s shoulder when the tattoo artist smiled. “Hey, I didn’t say it was bad! Just new. Relax, or I’ll make you sit in the chair and get a butterfly inked on your ass to loosen you up.”

Lena giggled, her momentary discomfort eased by Jill’s accepting candor, and looked around the shop with increasing delight. “No butterflies in my plans right now, but I’m starting to think pretty seriously about something. I thought I’d talk to you about it once we’re done today.”

Odette raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected – the shorter woman hadn’t said a thing about wanting a tattoo of her own.

Jill clapped her hands, all business as she stepped up to the raised tattooing stage. “OK, Odette, I want you to go ahead and strip off, just like last week, then lie down on the table.”

Once she was comfortable, a pillowed cushion beneath her head, Jill demonstrated how she sterilized and prepped her equipment to Hana, still pitching her on taking an apprenticeship, then carefully washed and sanitized Odette’s back before running a barber’s razor over the entire area where she’d be working to remove excess hair, explaining the process along the way. Finally, she produced a transparent transfer sheet that she’d created of the finalized linework, aligning it to dots that she’d carefully drawn on Odette’s skin with a marker after confirming her earlier measurements.

“OK. Transfer is nice and tight, tattoo machine is sterile, and we’ve got the ink ready. Last chance – are you ready to do this? I can rebook and we can back up if you’ve got any doubts.”

Odette closed her eyes, taking in a long, slow breath, then letting it out. “ _Allons-y.”_

There was pain – a stinging, burning sensation each time the tattoo machine touched her skin. It hurt, but after all she had been through, it was tolerable. It helped that she could feel Jill’s hands moving on her back, offering words of comfort quietly as she worked.

“Doing great – really doing great. This is going to look so good, and you’re holding up like a pro, ok? Just tell me if you need a break.”

Lena had pulled a chair around so Odette could see her without having to move, able to reach out and hold her hand. Her partner offered reassuring squeezes periodically, murmuring her own appreciation and support.

She could hear Hana asking questions to the artist periodically, but for the most part Odette just tried to let herself float, particularly once the pain reduced into a sort of constant buzz as it was muted by her body’s release of endorphins. She could feel a warmth spreading through her middle, along with an almost intoxicating lightness.

 _Lena knew what she was talking about_ , she mused silently, _but I’m not going to admit that with Hana anywhere near!_

After an hour and a half of work, the lines of the wings had been finished, and Jill had completed the tapering base of the design before she shut the tattoo machine off and gently wiped off Odette’s back. “You’re doing great, babe, but I want you to have a break before we finish the body and the blue outlines. You eat anything today?”

Odette slowly sat up and turned over, then shrugged. “A light breakfast, some water, just in case.”

The artist nodded, swiveling on her stool to open up a drawer. “I thought you might say that – you’re being really smart about this. Stomach OK? Sometimes the pain gets to people.”

“Fine,” she confirmed, “but now that you ask me I am starting to feel fairly hungry.”

Jill grinned as she fanned out a pile of delivery menus. “That’s why I have these.”

After some discussion, they’d settled on a kebab shop, and Jill got to witness how terrifyingly fast Lena could devour a doner kebab and large fries, all while holding up a seemingly seamless conversation. Hana started to ask more questions about working as a tattoo artist (“Never hurts to have a backup plan, right?”), while Jill happily answered those, then chatted about other work she’d done, music, and a wide range of other topics until the last of the food had disappeared.

“OK,” the artist announced as she stood, clapping her hands, “everyone ready to get back to it? I think we can probably wrap up the lines in another half hour, and then we can talk about fills.”

In the end, they went ahead with the coloring after Odette confirmed she was comfortable with the process, including answering several detailed questions from her artist about how she was doing (and to Lena’s amusement, Jill had demanded she solve a math problem to make sure that the Frenchwoman wasn’t just saying ‘ _Oui_ ’ to everything.)

After cleaning away the blood that had been raised by the tattooing, Jill and Hana both took pictures of the completed linework, after which the shop owner ensured that Hana wouldn’t put anything on her social media before the pictures went up on the Practical Magic accounts thanks to a victory at ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’.

The fills took another three hours, including a couple more breaks for water, and both Jill and Lena checking in with Odette periodically as the artist delicately brought the swan to life.

“It’s really gorgeous, luv. We’re almost done, now. You’re going to be so happy when you see it!” Lena looked almost ready to explode with delight – particularly once she’d seen the bright blue ink Jill had mixed, and how it matched the shade of the light emitted from her chest. “How’s it feel?”

Odette moaned softly, her mouth moving without her brain’s influence. _“Ça fait mal, mais il est si bon. Je sais que vous vouliez aller boutique, mais pourrions-nous tout simplement rentrer à la maison et baiser?”_

Jill exploded with laughter, almost falling off her stool, her foot going off the tattoo machine’s pedal by long developed reflex. Odette clapped a hand to her mouth, face burning as she realized what she had just said, and Lena (who was still working to master her partner’s native tongue) hooted with glee as she figured it out.

Odette didn’t hear Hana ask what had happened, but she did catch the younger girl’s aggrieved “oh my _goood_ ” before also she started laughing. Odette buried her head into the pillow with an embarrassed groan, her ears still burning.

“If it makes you feel better,” Jill observed as she went back to work, “you’re not the only person I’ve worked on in here to feel that way!” Then, just as Odette began to breathe again, she delivered a deadpan “Possibly the first to say that in French, though.”

Lena’s cackle was probably heard all the way back in the Watchpoint.

A half hour later, Jill had done a final wipedown of the freshly tattooed skin, then carefully rubbed aftercare cream over Odette’s back.

“I’m going to go ahead with applying the medicated plexi-skin next. It’s a lot like the wraps we used to use, but it’ll protect your skin and help heal the tat without needing constant care, unlike the old days. Once that’s done, it’ll need about fifteen minutes to cure, I’ll get some more pictures, and you can get dressed again! For the next couple of days, if you feel any burning, discomfort, or see weeping or bruising, see a doctor right away. I can fix the tat later, but you need fixed first.”

“Oh,” the artist mentioned almost as an afterthought, “and it’s going to itch like a motherfucker. Don’t scratch. The plexi isn’t going to break for the first few days, but that could start to tear by day four or five if you do that.”

“When does the plexi-skin finish breaking down?” Odette could feel it being applied as Jill carefully opened a sterile package, then gently rolled the substance over her back with a slightly tacky sensation.

“Usually about seven or eight days. I’ll give you a jar of the aftercare cream too – it isn’t as vital to apply it as the older methods, but it doesn’t hurt for someone to help you by rubbing it into your skin once or twice a day.” Given the tone of Jill’s voice, she was pretty certain she’d offered Lena a teasing wink, especially once Odette could see her cheeks going pink.

It barely seemed like a heartbeat had passed as she floated on the post tattooing high, but soon she heard Jill and Hana grabbing more pictures, then got the OK to dress again after Odette provided her own seal of approval to the finished work. After she’d put herself back together and Lena had pulled her jumper back over her head, Jill opened the blinds, then collected her gift card for the tattooing, plus a healthy tip from Lena.

“This was a pleasure, ladies! Lena, if you want one of your own, just come down to the shop and we’ll plan it out.”

“Oh, I’m in. You’ll see me back soon!”

“Great! Love hearing that. Oh,” the artist grinned as she turned back to her client, “and if Lena does get one, that means _your_ next ink is 20% off. Referral bonus!”

Odette chuckled. “I’m starting to see what you meant about this getting addictive, _lapin_.”

Hana winked. “Toldja! Anyway – I don’t care where you guys go next, but I’m gonna hang out with Jill, see what people think of the pictures once they hit online, and totally not get talked into working here.”

“We’ll see about that!”

Lena took Odette’s arm, turning towards the door. “Sure you won’t need a ride back later?”

“I can get it,” Jill assured her, “or I’ll call her an Uber if she falls asleep here.”

They left the shop, walking to Lena’s coupe.

“So,” she said with forced casualness, “should we go shopping, or…?”

Odette pushed Lena back against the hood of her car, drawing a surprised squawk, then leaned in to kiss her hungrily, one hand tangling in short chestnut hair, the other stroking nails down the side of her hip.

“ _O_ _h_ ,” Lena breathed between kisses, “that’ll do.”

Suddenly Odette broke off, a wicked smile on her lips. “I’m glad you think so. Why don’t we look for a few things at the shops before we get dinner?” Walking to the passenger door as Lena fell back against the hood with a groan, she mentioned, “I was thinking of finding a dress to show off my back.”

“That’s not bloody _faaaaaair…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter coming, I believe.
> 
> Much thanks to the real Jill, who is not a tattoo artist, but is a badass nurse who was nice enough to let me insert her into this fic!


	4. Chapter 4

For all Lena had pouted about Odette teasing her so mercilessly before they got in the car, she was still enthusiastic about their plans for the rest of the night, driving them over to one of the shopping galleries that would be open until well after midnight.

After browsing through a few stores, they’d split up, Lena cryptically saying she “needed to look for something.” Odette eventually found herself drawn back to one of the first stores they’d visited, picking out a deep green backless dress that showed off her new tattoo beautifully, and a few accessories to match. Paying for her purchases, she’d immediately headed for one of the gallery’s public restrooms to change, placing the clothes she’d been wearing earlier into her shopping bags.

A stop at another store provided a few lower backed shirts and a couple of tank tops for her to wear later, and Odette was just considering trying to call Lena to meet at the car so she could get rid of the bags when she saw her coming out of a menswear shop, and Odette’s breath caught in her chest.

Lena didn't generally go for being overly feminine, and tended to dress in a very gender-neutral fashion, particularly within the restrictions of the Accelerator. Tank tops, t-shirts, and hoodies made up about 2/3 of her closet, and even though Odette knew she owned a few dressy outfits, she didn’t think her partner had ever worn a _dress_ in the time they’d known each other.

For tonight, though, Lena had apparently decided to push things in an overtly masculine direction, wearing a nicely cut suit jacket and matching pants, black dress shoes that had been shined to mirror brightness, and the jumper she’d been hiding the accelerator under replaced with a wine colored turtleneck that had just enough room in the cut to keep the device from being obvious.

She’d had her hair styled as well, drawing it back and slicking it down with what had to be a heroic amount of product, and the entire effect was so different – but so _her_ – that Odette could barely think.

“Not bad, eh?” Lena’s rakish smirk seemed to complete the outfit. “I caught you looking at that dress, and I decided to pull out all the stops to go with.”

“You look fantastic,” Odette agreed once she could remember how to talk, “quite handsome, _ma coeur_.”

Lena blushed slightly, then leaned up on the tips of her toes to give her a quick kiss. “How about we put our bags in the boot, then find a nice spot for dinner?”

“Just what I was thinking, _chérie._ ”

* * *

Despite Odette’s continued explorations into different cuisines, Lena was very much a fish and chips, bangers and mash, fried slice sort of girl. She’d always appreciated whatever Odette made, but when given a choice, she tended to default to the simplest options.

Tonight, though, she had pulled a few restaurants up on her phone before picking a Spanish restaurant just over the border line that advertised private patio tables. “Fancy date – check. Fancy outfits – check. Fancy restaurant – check!”

They ordered a bottle of albariño and paella, and once the waiter had left Lena sat back with a smile. “This really is lovely. You should talk me into doing this more often!”

Odette chuckled, fingers tapping the rim of her water glass. “I wasn’t aware I’d talked to you into anything tonight – but I’m enjoying this quite a bit. Maybe when you decide to get your tattoo, we can go to a club instead?”

Lena grinned. “Person getting inked up sets the tone for the night? I like that. Though we may want to be careful – I could see that turning into an awfully expensive habit.”

The Frenchwoman just shrugged before taking a sip of her water. “You do keep telling me I should feel comfortable spending money on myself.”

Lena had been about to respond when a plain faced man in a dark coat came through the patio door. At first she thought he might have been the wine steward, but as he walked up behind Odette, he said a word that made it clear their date was over.

“ _Theridiidae_.”

Odette stiffened, her back going straight as a board. Lena’s heart clenched as she watched her lover push back the chair, then stand at ease, face completely blank.

“Very good,” the man nodded, “it appears your programming hasn’t completely malfunctioned.” He removed a pistol from his coat pocket, then attached a canister suppressor to the front with practiced ease. “You will take this, and secure a route to the back exit. A vehicle is waiting there to deliver you for repair and refurbishing. There are to be no witnesses. Is that understood?”

“Understood,” Odette confirmed flatly as she took the pistol, “and acknowledged.”

“Excellent,” the Talon operative smiled, “Go. We will be along shortly.”

He produced a blocky black and yellow object from his opposite coat pocket as Odette walked purposefully out the door. “I do apologize for interrupting your evening, Miss Oxton, but we’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for some time.” He sat in the chair Odette had just vacated, and Lena’s heart fell as she heard two heavy coughing sounds a moment later – suppressed pistol shots.

“This device in my hand can deliver more than enough voltage to disrupt your Chronal Accelerator, and I doubt it would be terribly pleasant for you, either. Obey my instructions and we will not have to find out.”

Lena didn’t answer with words, just stared daggers at the little lump.

“We didn’t expect what a powerful affect you would have on Mrs. Lacroix,” he explained as if he was carrying on a perfectly normal conversation, “it was completely outside any of our projections. Fascinating, really. I was able to convince my colleagues that collecting both of you would be the best way forward – I suspect that if we give you to her, after you’ve both received some adjustments, it will be useful in keeping her docile. And of course you’re a most unique asset in your own right.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed, flicking down to the ugly end of the device he was still leveling at her chest, then back up to meet his flat grey stare. “You and your ‘adjustments’,” she spat, “can fuck right off, mate.”

“I don’t think that’s a terribly healthy attitude, given the situation.” The Talon operative – had he been one of Widowmaker’s controllers, then? – kept his voice level, his eyes like flint. “I must compliment Dr. Ziegler on her work – we didn’t believe the external modifications would be reversible. If her subtler enhancements were unaffected by the process, I’ll lobby to keep her as-is. It would certainly make infiltration operations easier.”

Talking about Odette like she was a bloody shop car. ‘External modifications’ indeed! The only thing keeping her from ripping his head off, risk be damned, was the realization that those blokes in the car he’d mentioned would likely kill Odette – or worse – if he failed to check in.

As if on cue, he raised his free hand to check his watch. “I believe it’s time to leave, Miss Oxton. You’ll stand up and come with me, please, or Mrs. Lacroix will feel the consequences.”

Lena stood, her hands balled into fists so tight that her knuckles were like knobs of polished ivory. Wordlessly, she marched towards the door back into the restaurant. If they were going through the kitchen, there ought to be something she could use to her advantage there. Maybe she’d get a jolt, but if she could get her hands on a steel pan or a good knife, she could give the bastard what for.

The more she went over things in her head, it was probably better to be dead than suffer what Talon had planned for both of them, anyway.

One of the double doors to the kitchen had been propped open, and she’d just crossed the threshold, the Talon agent just behind her, when a blur of dark green came around the other side of the steel door.

Odette’s kick shattered the man’s kneecap, and he collapsed with a scream of agony, the shock device clattering to the floor. Her foot swept the weapon away from him, Lena kneeling to grab it, and when she’d risen back up Odette had straddled him, pistol aimed squarely at his forehead.

“I am not your _property_ ,” she snarled as the pistol’s hammer cocked back, “I am not a _malfunction_. I am not a _thing._ ” The man’s eyes finally showed a reaction beyond his initial pain and shock at being injured – absolute bewildered terror. _“Est-ce que vous pensez vraiment que je serais votre marionnette à nouveau?”_ Odette’s voice had become thick with hatred, her finger tensed and ready on the trigger.

Lena swallowed hard. “Luv…Odette…he’s not worth it.” She knew how hard Odette had worked to put that part of her life behind her. “You don’t want to do this. I know you don’t.”

 _“Tu ne sais pas ce qu'il a fait!”_ Tears were welling in Odette’s eyes as her voice rang against the walls, but the pistol was steady as a rock.

“I don’t,” Lena agreed, “but remember what you said a while ago about having a choice?” She tried to keep her voice steady. “Don’t let him – let them – make it for you.”

Lena felt time stretch in a way that had nothing to do with the Slipstream, and after what seemed like forever between her heartbeats, Odette uncocked the pistol, snapping the safety on. Before her captive could react to that, she reversed the weapon in her hand, then whipped it across his face with a sharp crack. The man slumped bonelessly, unconscious, but alive.

 “ _Fils de pute!”_ Lena could see she was still incandescent with rage, but that killing intent had slowly begun to fade. “When you wake up, our friends will have very _interesting_ questions for you.”

“Assuming his jaw isn’t wired shut,” Lena mused, then looked at the back door of the restaurant. “The other Talon agents?”

Odette dropped the pistol as if it was covered in filth. “Occupied.” A moment later Lena could hear a familiar voice crying out in enraged Arabic, followed by the sound of explosions so close to the building that the pots and pans hung on the kitchen walls shook.

* * *

Five minutes earlier

Odette didn’t know how she’d been able to keep the act up, after hearing that word. Her stomach felt like it was full of burning lead as her Controller had blithely issued instructions, her hands itching to wrap around his throat as he handed her the pistol. Desperately trying to keep her expression still and her voice flat as she raged silently, even as some small part of her whispered how _easy_ it would be to just _submit_ , to go back to feeling _nothing_ , to be _taken care of_.

She tried to tell herself it was some remnant of what Talon had done – that it wasn’t really _her_ – but she knew it was. She’d have to deal with that someday, but this was certainly not that day.

Right now, she had very little time, and much to do if she or Lena were going to survive.

Turning as she entered the kitchen, she raised the pistol at the first cook to look her way.

“All of you, out the front door. Now.” Too shocked to move, they just stared for a long second before she traversed the gun slightly and fired two shots into the wall, just above the level of their heads. “ _Move!_ ”

As the restaurant staff fled, she pulled the phone off the wall and dialed a number from memory. Her voice snapped with anger as the connection went through, not even giving the person at the other end a chance to speak once they’d come on the line. “Be quiet and listen carefully, because I only have time to say this once.”

* * *

After the rocket blasts died away, there was a terrible silence until the handle of the back door began to turn. Odette instinctively reached for the nearest weapon – a heavy cleaver – then tossed it away with a cry that mixed disgust and relief as Mercy burst through the door.

“Are either of you hurt? Is anyone else injured?” Ice blue eyes swept over the room, instantly triaging both women, then fell to the unconscious man on the floor. “Who is _that_?”

Odette looked down again, her voice thick with venom as she spat her answer. “ _Talon_.”

Angela nodded. “Pharah will be down to secure him in a moment. His friends are already being taken into custody.” She gave Odette a searching look, as if she could see the adrenaline that had been fueling her this entire episode as it drained away. “I think it would be best for both of you to leave before anyone else tries to ask questions.”

Lena gently put a hand on Odette’s shoulder, but didn’t get too close, giving the taller woman space. “Could someone bring my car around back?” Angela nodded, and Lena dug in her pocket for the keychain before tossing it over.

Odette stayed withdrawn and quiet until they’d returned to their rooms at the Watchpoint, her face as carefully controlled as when she’d been bluffing her old masters. As soon as Lena had shut and locked their doors, though, her mask fell away, and she pulled the smaller woman to her, clutching on for dear life as she wept, a wordless scream of horror and anguish ripping from her lips.

Lena just held on to her, her own voice quiet and gentle. “It’s over. We’re both safe now and it’s _over_ , and you were _amazing_ , ok?” She slowly stroked her hand over Odette’s bare back, feeling the slightly unnatural smoothness of the patch over the new tattoo. Had she only gotten that a few hours ago? It seemed like forever, now. “You did _so good_ , and I am so proud of you, love. You’re safe now. It’s over. It is going to be OK, I promise.”

Odette’s face was a tear streaked, snotty mess when she slowly disengaged. “I just…I just ruined your new suit.” It wasn’t what she was _really_ trying to say, but Lena just pulled out the pocket square she’d purchased to go with the jacket.

“Drycleaner will fix that right up, don’t you worry. It’s fine. I’m fine, ok? I’m right here with you, and I’m fine, I promise.”

Odette nodded, blowing her nose and folding the cloth over before trying to dry some of her tears. “They didn’t hurt you?”

“Scared the life out of me,” Lena admitted as she took the jacket off, “but nothing else, thanks to you.”

Odette let out what was supposed to be a laugh, but found herself crying again instead from sheer relief. “We’re OK?”

“We’re OK,” Lena gently confirmed, then took her hands. “Why don’t we see about getting cleaned up, and then you get some rest?”

“ _D’accord._ ”

After they’d both undressed and showered, Odette let Lena take her to bed, the smaller woman curling protectively around her.

“I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

Lena kissed the back of her neck, her warm breath tickling against her skin. “Please don’t even think that, all right?” Tonight was wonderful right up until we were interrupted, and that was absolutely not your fault, ok? That’s on the bastard who got his teeth knocked in, and no one else. I love you, and nothing that happened tonight was your fault.” Lena’s slim arms wrapped a little tighter, offering as much reassurance as she could. “We’ll do that again, ok? And we’ll do it proper, I promise.”

“I’d like that.” Odette’s voice was small and fragile, clinging to the lifeline Lena offered her. “It was such a good day, until…”

“Yeah, it was,” Lena deflected gently, “it was. Your new tattoo is beautiful, and you’ll look amazing when we go back out. I know you will.”

“I love you, Lena. I love you so much.”

“ _Je t’aime.”_

Lena held her gently until Odette finally slipped into unconsciousness, and finally let a few of her own tears fall before the sound of her partner’s slow, even breathing helped to ease her into sleep as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was going to end with Mr. Talon having his jaw busted, but I realized as I was writing that no, it couldn't end that way, really. Not and be true to the characters as they have grown as I've been writing this.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this - we'll be back to check in on them again, I think.


End file.
